


Stubborn (A Zack Addy Fanfic)

by hipbonesofChrist



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cutesy stuff, Depression, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6186319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hipbonesofChrist/pseuds/hipbonesofChrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sky outside was dark, although neither of the boys could see it through the windowless walls of the room they were in. Bones, Booth, Hodgins, and Angela were all at home. The only two who occupied the lab, keeping lights on, making noise...were Zack Addy and the new grad student he'd been given the task of mentoring, since no one really knew what to do with him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I can't think of a good summary for this fic — in a nutshell, Zack gets sick and is forced into the care of the new grad student, one of my OCs. 
> 
> Fluff and cutesy stuff to come!

“Zack? You okay, man?”

The aforementioned grad student, Neal Hardigan, walked up to the motionless brunette and shook his arm gently. Zack seemed to jumpstart to life again.

“Yes? Have you finished your written report on the —”

“Abrasions found on the victim's skeleton. Done.” Neal motioned to the computer, tugging at the mouse so the screensaver lifted to reveal his assigned work.

“Good. Thank you.” Although Zack could very well have sent the other boy home — he was no stranger to working alone, and Neal expected him to anyways — he was curiously silent. In fact, he had been all day.

“Are you  _ sure _ , you're okay?” Neal asked again. Being one of Zack's only primary partners all day, he could see something was clearly wrong. He just didn't know what yet.

“Yes, I've already told you the seven times you've asked already.” Zack said shortly. If his answer didn't make Neal even more concerned, it was definitely his voice. It was different, Neal noticed. Zack was like a robot a good portion of the time.

When he'd answered the question, right there…

He sounded  _ pissed. _

Did Zack even get pissed?

Neal took a seat in the rolling chair, resigned to be silent, but Zack's imminent departure from the room caught his attention.

“Where are you going?”

“If I need to go and  _ use the bathroom, _ I think I'm entitled to.” Zack responded as he was walking out the door.

Again. He sounded absolutely livid. But there was something else too, something Neal couldn't quite figure out.

_ Shit. _

After five minutes of waiting, turning over that tone of voice in his mind again and again, Neal decided that he would just have to ask Zack an eighth time.

Or is it ninth?

Finding his way to the bathroom easily — though it was only his fifth day, Neal was always good at directions — the new student pushed open the door near silently and stood against the bathroom wall for a time, until he heard anything from Zack.

At first, all he heard was breathing. It sounded quick, labored.

_ Maybe he's having a panic attack. Although I can't imagine why…  _ Neal speculated. He waited a few more seconds before deciding to venture farther into the bathroom. He could tell Zack was in one of the far stalls, he wouldn't hear him if he was very, very —

Neal started as Zack, it could only be Zack, let out a loud belch, accompanied by the sound of Zack's barely-touched lunch coming back up his throat.

“Zack? Jesus.” Neal said, knocking on the correct bathroom stall.

“I'm fine.” Came the choked answer. Neal frowned.

“Zack, how rational is it exactly to be this stubborn?” He asked, voice derisive.

“I don't have to be rational all the time.” Zack responded. The toilet flushed and Zack pulled the stall door open, face flushed and eyes anxious. A thin film of sweat covered his face and neck.

“I — I'm sorry. I think I'm feverish, there is no reason why I should be getting angry, I ap —” Zack's knees went out under him and Neal darted forwards, catching him from a nasty and very potentially dangerous fall to the hard tile floor. Neal could feel Zack's entire body trembling.

“You're sick, aren't you? You've been sick all day. Zack…” Neal forced Zack towards the sinks, made him lean against the counter while they talked.

“Yes, I've been sick all day. I didn't want to take a sick day, however. Dr. Brennan doesn't appreciate when her full team isn't here.”

Neal's eyes flashed with the slightest bit of contempt for the scientist. From day one she'd acted as if he was... _ incapable  _ in some way. And now this, scaring Zack into coming to work…

Zack leaned over the sink, splashing cool water over his face and giving a small mumble of annoyance as his long bangs got soaked, dripping into his eyes.

Neal looked over, drawn out of his thoughts. “Zack, here.” Pulling a hairband from around his wrist — he wore a few on each arm, for good luck, or so he said — Neal swept Zack's brown locks back and tied them into a small ponytail. Neal gave a small grin, and Zack’s brows furrowed as they did so much when interacting with normal people.

“What?”

“Nothing. You look ...good with a ponytail.” Neal said. He looked into Zack's feverish face again. “Rinse your mouth out.” He added.

“I know.” Zack said, shortly.

Neal paced the tile floor a few times as Zack rinsed and spat multiple times, still shaking and sweating and occasionally burping. His greyish eyes finally rested on Zack, who was trying and subsequently failing to stand up without the support of a wall.

“I believe I’m dehydrated as well as feverish.” Zack concluded, before slumping to the floor. His knees clashed painfully with the tile and Zack pressed his sweating palms to the cool ground, feeling his fever heat the floor under his palms.

“Shit.” Neal finally said. “Zack, you can't go home like this. You'll kill yourself.”

“I can't go home at all.” Zack said, limp as a ragdoll as Neal picked him up again, settling him back against the wall. “Hodgins or Angela is usually my ride home. I was working late tonight so I was going to take the bus —”

“Stop.”

“Interrupting is rude.” Zack said as Neal interrupted. It was one of the few rules of normal human conversation that he had down.

“I don't care, look. Zack, you   _ can't _ take the bus and you  _ can't _ go home alone. You can't stand. You're weak. You're feverish. You just said yourself, you're dehydrated.” Neal pointed out, pausing to take a breath. He looked at the small, shivering brunette student with a mixture of worry, anger and tender concern. “ _ Why  _ on  _ Earth  _ did you come into work today?”

Zack pursed his lips, opened his mouth, closed it. He didn't seem to want to or known how to give the answer he was thinking. Finally he said it, too tired and sick to think of another possible answer.

“Because I didn't want to leave you with Dr. Brennan. She's hard on new arrivals, and I thought — I thought if I came in and taught you today you wouldn't have to...be with her alone.” Neal was looking at him with astonishment, he realized, and so he made something else up and tacked it onto the end of his answer.

“I mean, uh...you two would fight. Fighting is illogical. It isn't rational.”

Neal snorted. “I'm a pacifist. At least we have that in common.” He said. He was still looking at Zack, but the tender concern was more apparent in his expression now.

“So...so what are we going to do?” Zack asked. Neal held an arm out and Zack obediently leaned into it, letting Neal support him and warm him up. He was cold but he was sweating.

_ This is completely illogical.  _ Zack thought, feeling a drop of sweat slide down his nose.

“Okay. Plan is, you come with me to my apartment. I'll take care of you for a couple days. We come back into the office, I'll call Dr. Brennan later to let her know you're taking some sick days. When you're better we go back to regular?”

“Ok — okay.” Zack said. He agreed with the plan wholeheartedly; even if he hadn't, though, there wasn't much he could have done. “Your apartment.”

“Let's shut the lights off.” Neal said, placing Zack's small form carefully in the rolling chair and sliding off his, and then Zack's lab coats. He shut off all the lights, leaving the ‘skeleton room’ for last since that's where he left Zack.

When Neak came back to the room Zack had his report in hand, trying in vain to scribble a legible sentence with a badly shaking hand. Everything on his body was badly shaking, actually.

He made a noise of protest as Neal snatched the pencil and paper away from him.

“You can't even write straight. You'll finish it later, or Hodgins will cover for you. He'll understand, I'm sure.”

“But then...he'll be..king of the lab…” Zack protested, struggling to roll the chair over to where Neal had placed the paper. Neal stopped Zack's motion with a foot placed against the wheel of the chair and Zack dissolved into lung-wracking coughs, doubling over. Spit dripped from his lips when he sat up again, collapsing back in the chair, brown eyes shut tight.

“Jesus, Zack. Okay, we're going. No more work. Don't even think about it. Just try not to hurl in my car.”

Neal supported Zack to a small brownish station wagon, helping him climb inside the passenger seat. He put the car on, turned the heat on high even though he was sweating from the effort of nearly carrying Zack. He wasn't that much stronger than Zack, and definitely lighter.

“I know you said no thinking about work but —” Neal looked over at Zack, shutting him up with a not-unfriendly glare. Zack shut his mouth obediently.

“Try and rest a little, Zack. Maybe you'll be able to walk a little more when we get to my place.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack is sick, in pain, and overwhelmed. He never meant to get sick and end up crying in Neal's arms, but it's funny sometimes how things work out like that.

“Where do you live?” Zack asked, jerking awake as Neal shut the car off and opened the passenger side door. The blond student gave a small smile.

“See for yourself. We're here.” He held out his hand for Zack to support himself. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really. I believe I can stand a little better than before, however. That's an improvement. “ Zack answered. He let Neal pull him out of the car and took in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see, truth be told. A generic street, a generic sidewalk and a generic apartment building, which is what they were headed for.

“Don't pass out on me, Zack. “ Neal warned as they got to the elevator in the complex. Zack slumped against the wall, mumbling that he'd try not to.

The first thing that occurred to Zack's feverish mind when Neal pushed open his apartment door was that the room smelled  _ really  _ good. It smelled like...Zack could've identified the scent in a second, had he been healthy, but as it was he couldn't think of it.

“Wh...what's that smell?” He mumbled. Neal set the smaller man on the couch and made his way to the small kitchen, answering.

“It's pine. Pine tree.” He clarified.

“I know...what a pine tree is.” Zack said. He collapsed across the couch, exhausted. Every muscle in his body was shaking, well, at least, it seemed like every single one.

“I'm making you some soup. I'll put it in the fridge if you don't want it now.”

“I don't think I can...uh...handle it.” Zack put a hand to his mouth and burped. Neal stepped out of the kitchen and gave Zack a concerned look.

“Hey.” He looked at Zack's pasty complexion and brought a bucket from the kitchen, turning off the burner on the stove off.

“Food later.” He conceded, sitting next to the brunette. Zack moved away from him as urgently as he could before his head started to spin.

“You're...gonna get...sick.” Zack said. Neal gave a small smile.

“I'm okay. I'll deal with it. Right now, I'm taking care of you.”

There was a pause. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Uh...wouldn't Hodgins or Angela or someone take care of you if you were sick?”

“Yes but —” Zack propped himself up briefly. “But you hardly know me.”

Neal scoffed. “That doesn't matter. I like you, Zack. You're a good person, I can tell.”

“You...speak to me weird.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Everyone else in the office...when they talk to me they usually ask if I  _ feel  _ things like...like emotion, or what I do on my off time...It's…you're not asking any of that.”

Neal slid a bit closer to Zack, this time he didn't move away.

“It's because I'm not interested in that, unless you're interested in telling me. That's not what I'm focused on.”

“I guess…I mean… “ Zack licked his lips and tried again. “I've never felt they treated me like a person. They act different around me.”

“They're treating you like they think they should.” Neal explained. “Zack...they just want you to understand.”

“I understand everything just fine.” Zack said, lips pouting slightly. Neal leaned over and raised a hand.

“ _ Please  _ don't ruffle my hair.” Zack said quickly.

“Okay. I won't.” Neal said. He brought his hand back to his side — neither him nor Zack realized they were sorry for this.

Zack coughed. “Neal, what...what do you like doing on your off time?”

Neal gave a surprised burst of laughter.

“Are you asking because you're genuinely interested, or just making small talk.”

Zack sighed. “I suppose I'm making conversation.” He said. “I apologize for being short with you earlier.”

“You're sick. I don't expect you to be nice.” 

“No, but at least...I could have been..amiable.” Zack said. He looked a little sickly again and it wasn't hard for Neal to see the brunette's hand press to his stomach. Zack winced and Neal stood.

“I'm making you some tea. Ginger. It'll help with the nausea.”

“Are you s...sure it…” Zack stopped, more nauseous than ever.

“I'm sure.” Neal said, already in the kitchen. He leaned out just to give Zack a stern glare. “Don't talk, try to relax and don't put pressure on your stomach.” Neal went back to preparing the tea.

“Tea's ready,” Neal said, peering out of the kitchen again. However, for the second time that evening Zack inadvertently thwarted Neal’s attempt to get him to eat or drink something. Neal put the steaming mug of tea on the counter and hurriedly went to Zack, who was vomiting quietly again, the bucket in between his legs. His long bangs were in his face again, too short for the ponytail, and Neal ignored the way Zack flinched as he touched him, brought his bangs out of his face. Zack coughed, the acid still in his mouth, and allowed Neal to wind a steady arm around him and prop him up.

“You’re okay, Zack.” Neal said. Zack wanted to answer, wanted badly to answer, but his stomach wouldn’t stop turning. Everything was too loud...his heartbeat, his breathing, and the room was spinning and he couldn’t get it to stop. He was burning, Jesus, he was burning up.

“The room is sp-spinning...” Zack said when he could speak, voice raspy and throat rubbed raw. Before, he’d been trying to limit his contact with Neal. He didn’t want to get him sick...and he didn’t want to touch him. He felt it would be inappropriate and uncomfortable. But his stomach, his muscles were spasming so he could hardly sit still, his head, his heart pounding in his ears dear God he was in so much pain --

Zack was miserable and hurting and sick and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this, if he ever had. His stomach turned again but there was nothing to come up and he tasted blood in his mouth as he coughed, he thought he’d bitten his tongue… His already trained senses were overloaded and he couldn’t find a way to get rid of them. He was scared. This was out of control.

The young scientist’s resolve broke at last.

Overwhelmed, Zack turned and nestled his head into the soft, dark material of Neal’s sweater, shutting out the room but it still felt like he was going around and around. The spinning wouldn’t stop...Zack began to cry into Neal’s shoulder, hopelessly, helplessly.

  
Neal, for his part, was astonished but got over it quickly. He frowned in concern and Zack let him lift the bucket from between his legs, drawing his knees up so he was sitting almost fully in Neal’s lap. His arms encircled the other young man’s neck and so Neal wound his arm around Zack more securely and rubbed his shaking back lightly, soothingly. The hair tie had fallen from his hair and so Neal ran his free hand through his soft brown locks, whispering to Zack that it would be alright, everything would be okay, just calm down, and everything would be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and Zack decide how to spend their time relaxing, in between trying to convince Zack that he's too sick to go to work.

Zack started awake, shivering instantly. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, no idea where he was, and no idea why he was in someone else's sweatpants and a tee-shirt.

It was very early morning. Zack was laying on the couch, alone. Neal was in a small armchair next to the couch, a TV remote in his lap. The small set was still on, but showing nothing but static; he'd been watching a VCR tape.

It all came back to Zack pretty quickly; he propped himself up just a little, gingerly, and found that his head was a little better. His stomach was cramping, but he wasn't nauseous. He reached up and felt his clammy forehead; still burning; that meant Neal would never let him go to work.

“Neal.” Zack whispered, not entirely sure what he wanted. Neal was a light sleeper, evidently; he was up in an instant, flicking the TV off so they were in nearly complete darkness once again.

“Zack? Are you okay?”

“What am I doing in your clothes?”

“Yours were soaked through with sweat, Zack. Don't you remember?” Zack's silence elicited further explanation from Neal. “After you had calmed down, you started drifting off. I gave you some of my clothes so you could relax. Something soft to wear.” A smile tugged at Neal's features.

“Oh. I'm…” Zack suddenly remembered what he had been calming down from. “Neal, I don't cry. I find it unattractive and irrational. I prefer action over emotion.” He said. He started to stammer out a more in-depth explanation but Neal interrupted with one word.

“Stubborn.”

Zack paused, and then ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd never really had. He didn't usually get this stressed. “I apologize. I felt out of control and overwhelmed.” He said.

“You don't have to apologize.” Neal said. He looked through the darkness into Zack's shining, still-feverish dark eyes.

“Want me to come sit with you?” He asked. Zack nodded, almost automatically. Neal stood and settled on the couch next to Zack, who bent his knees to make room for Neal. He only flinched a little when Neal gently pulled his legs back over Neal's lap.

“You'll be more comfortable that way.” Neal said quietly. Zack gave a small nod.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little.” Zack said. He paused, wondered if he should insist he go to work.

“I think you should relax today.” Neal said, cutting him off. He gave Zack a look that said he knew exactly what the young man had been thinking.

“But I  _ can _ go...see, I can stand up.” Zack decided to press the matter after all, forcing his body up off the couch. He actually stood on his own for about five seconds before a wave of dizziness hit him and he collapsed onto the couch again, nearly falling on Neal. It seemed like all the strength had left his body and he couldn't even manage to struggle into a sitting position. His muscles were spasming again, fingers gripping the couch cushion as a wave of something only best described as  _ sickness  _ washed through his body.

“I’ve never seen someone be so stubborn about work.” Neal said. He leaned over and rubbed Zack's back until the tremors had ceased, and Zack turned and lay his head in Neal's lap, breathing hard.

“I believe...I'm still too sick to work.” Zack said. Neal ran his fingers through the soft brown hair.

“Yeah, me too.” Neal said. He looked down at Zack. “You're still warm, I can feel it.” He said. He gently pushed Zack onto the couch and went to his bedroom, coming back with another white shirt. Zack realized his was soaked with sweat. 

“Here. I won't look.” Neal teased, going to the kitchen and making unbuttered toast while Zack gingerly pulled one white shirt off and another on.

“How's your stomach?” Neal called from the kitchen. Zack paused a moment, and then called back.

“My…” he stopped to cough. “My abdominal muscles are cramping. It's quite painful.” He said, wincing. Neal brought the toast to Zack.

“If you feel like you can stomach it.” He said. “Don’t try to force yourself.”

“I know.” Zack insisted.

Neal settled down next to Zack, threw a blanket over their knees and grabbed up the remote again.

“What kinds of movies do you watch?” He asked.

Zack took a tentative bite of toast. “I don't really watch movies.”

“Okay, then what are you interested in?” He asked.

“Well, I enjoy anthropology.” Zack said, eyes amused.

“Okay, wise ass.” Neal said, giving a small laugh. “We'll watch Criminal  Minds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww! My smol bean! I really love writing Zack, and I've read so many Zack x Reid crossovers that I decided to throw some Criminal Minds in! I hope y'all enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello?” Neal answered his phone later that day. They were halfway through season 3 of Criminal Minds and Zack was enjoying it after all. Neal knew it had been a long shot, but it seemed to have payed off.

“Neal? Where are you? And where's Zack? Why isn't the report finished?” Dr. Brennan's voice came in sharp through the phone.

“Zack got sick yesterday, I'm with him at my apartment. He's too sick to come in.” Neal explained.

“What do you mean?” Brennan asked. Neal sighed, holding the phone away from his mouth so the doctor wouldn't hear.

“I mean all day he was out of it. He was shaking, couldn't focus. I walked in on him puking in the bathroom and I took him home. He could hardly stand by himself.” Neal clarified. Before Brennan could get a word in he added, “He didn't stay home because he didn't want to ditch the rest of the team.”

“Oh...Tell him I'm not mad.” Brennan said. “I have to go. But Neal?”

Neal put the phone back up to his ear. “Yeah?”

“Take care of him.” Brennan said simply, and hung up.

“Who was that?” Zack called from the other room.

“Dr. Brennan.” Neal said. Zack struggled to stand again, only stilling as Neal put his hands on Zack's small shoulders, eyes stern.

“She said she's not mad, that it's okay. So stop struggling. The faster you accept that you're sick, the sooner you'll get better.” Neal sat back on the couch again, leg to leg with Zack, who was shaking, but only in short bursts now.

“I'm sure that's not how germs work.” Zack said.

“Stop being stubborn, is what I mean.” Neal said. He let Zack lay his head on his shoulder and toyed with his hair. Zack closed his eyes, listened to the episode playing and felt Neal's hand slip lower, across his shoulder and down his arm to intertwine their fingers.

“Neal?” Zack asked after a long moment. He was recovering -- his senses were no longer overwhelmed and he was able to focus on the both of their hands together. He noticed how their hands seemed to fit perfectly in each others...but they were regular, normal human hands. If Neal’s and Zack’s hands fit together, didn’t that mean everyone else’s did too?

It didn’t mean anything, then. Zack reasoned. 

“Hm?” It took Neal a moment to answer -- he’d been drifting off.

“Doesn't holding hands allude to a certain level of intimacy?”

Neal froze, unsure of how to answer the question. Considering him and Zack had been in the very closest proximity all night long, he wasn’t sure how Zack would react...or worse, if he would react at all.

“Yeah, it does.” Neal said. “Why?”

“How much intimacy?” Zack wanted to know.

Neal exhaled and ran his other hand, the one not in Zack’s, through his hair. “Uh, I guess more than hugging, but not as much as kissing?” he said, trying to explain as best he could. “Why?”

“Because since our hands fit together, it makes sense that everyone's hands fit together. However, I wouldn't want to hold hands with Angela, or Dr. Brennan.”

“It's mostly about emotion.” Neal said. “If you l-like the person whose hand you're holding...u-um, then it feels good…”

“So you like me?” Zack asked.

“I...I guess I do.” Neal said, blushing.

“Neal...I don't like...or, feel attraction towards anyone.” Zack said slowly. Neal looked down.

“Oh.” He went to pull his hand out of Zack's, but Zack held it tightly. 

“Wait...I don't like anyone, but I...I seem to have developed feelings for you.”

“That's...I'm honored.” Neal said, blushing, for lack or anything to say. His heart was pounding hard, and he blushed.

“That’s an odd thing to say.” Zack reflected. “Honored.” He looked at Neal.

“Well, out of everyone you’ve ever met you decided to choose me.” Neal said with a smile. “Are you sure it doesn’t have to do with the fact that I’m taking care of you while you’re sick?”

“I’m sure.” Zack said. His voice held such conviction that Neal had to laugh despite himself.

“Neal? What do we do now?” Zack asked after a moment. His eyes were calculating, as if trying to figure out a tough equation.  But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out just what to do. He frowned in defeat, and then made a soft noise of surprise as Neal turned and pressed their lips together. Zack’s lips were soft and he tasted sweet.

When they broke away, Zack looked fairly starstruck but worried nonetheless. He was still trembling a bit, and Neal pulled him into his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“You could get sick now.”

 

_ ~Fin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last we come to the end of the fanfiction! What did you guys think? I really like their pairing, should I do more Neal and Zack fics? I need answers!
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed, and leave your thoughts and ideas below!
> 
> Love you guys!


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